Roswila's Dream & Poetry Realm

SEE ALSO: TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT (photos, realistic to abstract)

Saturday, January 20, 2018

PASSION UNFURLS (photomorph) & THE DREAM GIVES FAIR WARNING (dream narrative) by Roswila


THE DREAM GIVES FAIR WARNING

the taxi arrives; its driver's a young, fair haired
guy who radiates something I immediately think
of as odd, but this is quickly over-ridden by how
massively sexy he is; I sit in the front passenger
seat as he starts telling me about his past: he was
in some well-known paramilitary group whose
name I always have trouble remembering; he puts
his right hand on my left upper arm and leaves it
there as he drives; this, too, seems strange but I
do like being touched by him; I ask if the group
he was in is associated with any military group I
might have heard of or are they a group just to
themselves; even as I realize he's not going to
answer me, it becomes clear he's not taking me
where I want to go, but I don't get upset and just
hang on as it's a very bumpy ride as he's driving
his SUV/taxi up and over all sorts of rough but
beautiful, semi-mountainous terrain where cars
should not drive at all; he comes to a stop at a
large hotel/house where many of his paramilitary
group, male buddies are staying; as I fully accept
that I've been kidnapped he starts making sexual
advances that don't really go anywhere, and I'm
surprisingly OK about it all as his entire physical
package gets to me so intensely; I wind up naked,
wandering the hotel/house and over hear they've
just installed a mini-pool in the kitchen area, and
that his paramilitary buddies are looking forward
to watching him have sex with me when it finally
does happen; he and they agree that it's the least
he can do for his friends; I'm not sure I like the
idea but that odd intense desire to give him just
about anything he wants keeps me walking back
towards him, still jay bird nude; as I approach
him he says "You're driving me crazy!" clearly
meaning in a sexual sense; I mumble something
about my hope that my Gravel Gerties* -- my
name for my poor, out of shape legs -- won't turn
him off; my head starts heating, as do other parts
of me, as I imagine finally fucking with this man


[narrative on an old dream of 3-2-17. * Gravel Gertie, Dick Tracy comic character. BTW, I've had the notes for this dream all these months. I never knew quite how to write about it until today. Wasn't even sure I understood it fully. But in the past few days, even though I've not been in imminent danger of proceeding as I do in the dream, I've seen all too clearly how this situation has been around me with several men and for some time. I've just been too gullible and (blush) in some ways too innocent to see it. Not fully registering both too many men's untrustworthiness and my nearness to being victimized by my own sexual responses. I'm beginning to think that what I have agonized over, wondering what's wrong with me that's kept me out of a (shall I say) liaison with a man, has really been what's right with me. I've not met a man that my unconscious, deepest intuition can trust! And that intuition's kept me backing out of such situations without even knowing I'm doing so, and despite my intense conscious desires. Photomorph "Passion Unfurls" (9-29-09 7174v3) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post)
; TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.

Friday, January 19, 2018

LOSING SHOT (photomorph) & THE TENSION OF THE OPPOSITES (non-dream free verse poem) by Roswila


THE TENSION OF THE OPPOSITES

the foundation's about
a tension of opposites
or so Jung would have us
believe and I, for one, do;
even in the (deceptively)
simple form of poetry
called a haiku that's most
famous I suppose for it's
school of Zen, comparison
(just another word for
tension) or contrast (ditto)
is required to (1) hold it
all together and (2) to keep it
evolving beyond it's borders;
and so I sit here, determined
to write a haiku about
the too familiar moment
of my pain; why not
instead try to squeeze
the universe into
a ping pong ball,
I think wryly,
even as I go on
with the game


[non-dream free verse poem written 1-18-18. Article on Jungian concept of the tension of the opposites. (Don't miss the Mary Oliver poem, "Journey," in a video link at the end of this article.) I should add that I've seen many different articles on perspectives from which this Jungian concept is interpreted. This article comes fairly close to how I've been growing to understand it. And I hasten to add that I make no claim to fully understanding what Jung intended, only that whenever I read about the concept it stirs me profoundly. My poem can be read as a failed attempt to find a symbol to transcend the tension of the opposites. (BTW, I did not consciously seek a transcendent symbol when starting or even as I wrote and edited this poem. I was only reminded of the idea of a transcendent symbol after the poem was completed when I read various articles, looking for a link to include in these comments.) Photomorph "Losing Shot" (2988v4g) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post)
; TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.

Wednesday, January 17, 2018

NIGHT VOYAGE (photomorph) & A CRISP SALUTE (non-dream free verse poem) by Roswila


A CRISP SALUTE

oh, no, not another self-pitying poem ... well,
maybe she should just get it all out: like vomiting
she'll feel better once it's over -- even though she
knows it won't do one whit to alleviate the ultimate
cause of her nauseating state, that's unknown
(at least to her) and probably incurable as she'd
have stumbled on a fix by now (if due only to
the sheer number of tries) ... so, here goes: just
why is she still alone, no man on the horizon, or
better yet one standing clearly and willfully in front
of her at full alert or on the way, but no, a male
of the species who's got her on the hook always stands
apart altogether, or rushes on after an unavoidable
brief brush with closeness (ships passing in the night
have nothing on them) ... and given her life long
propensity to blame herself for everything,
she then wonders -- one more painful time --
what's wrong with her, even as she dreams
that her palms are weeping with the need
to touch, to explore, to raise passion
to the rafters, or failing that, to a crisp
salute to all they might have shared


[non-dream free verse poem written 1-15-18. I've mixed feelings about this poem, and the pic I've chosen to go with it. But haven't got any other poem or pic I'd rather post, so here they are: a sad pair, just like in the poem (big wry laugh). BTW, though this is not a dream-based poem, an old dream is referenced in that closing image of weeping palms. Photomorph "Night Voyage" (1-2-18 007v2b) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post)
; TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.

Monday, January 15, 2018

ASHES, ASHES, ALL FALL DOWN (photomorph) & DOS DESPEDIDAS (dream narrative) by Roswila


DOS DESPEDIDAS*

dream one:

to get him to leave my rooms, I volunteer
to light the stub of his cigarette, knowing
that he'll have to leave to smoke it; even as
I blow out the match I'm shooing him out
the front door, telling him to hurry on his
way because I don't want anyone to think
I've been smoking since, as he well knows,
it's against the rules; while he's walking
over the door sill a fellow resident he's
friendly with tries to step into my room
and takes the cigarette from him, puffing
hungrily on it; there's barely anything
left of the stub and I'm reminded of my
hippie days and how we'd use a tweezers
to hold the last bit of a joint; but no matter
that fond memory, I want these two out of
my space for even if I have found this
second man rather attractive, I now no
longer do: so desperate for a drag he's
blocking my doorway and, worse yet,
as usual he's still not acknowledging my
existence, only that cigarette stub that's
nearly burning his fingers: Out! Out! I
demand, more than happy to relieve
myself of dealing with either of them


dream two:

we have another new hair stylist working in our
community's salon; I haven't ever used it over the
years but for some reason let this newest woman
rig my long hair up in a tight, skull skimming
confection, none of it loose, not even a small
dangling braid; it feels odd but I like what she's
done and wonder if anyone will even notice,
the last and only time I arranged my hair in a
tight bun no one said a word; as I walk down
the central Promenade toward the dining room
I recall that as a symbol hair often represents
our thoughts, and I chuckle to myself: how is
my thinking changing, and about what,
or maybe, whom?


[narrative on two dreams of 1-13-18. * "Dos Despedidas," Spanish for "Two Good-Byes." LOL! Analyzing that second dream as I was dreaming it. It wasn't really a lucid dream (knowing one is dreaming as one is actually dreaming). But it illustrates a tendency I'm seeing more and more as I get even older. Dreams and waking seem to be becoming more similar (dreams more realistic and waking ever more filled with imaginative scenarios). Here, in the end of that second dream I'm essentially doing what my waking mind would have on recalling the dream. Photomorph "Ashes, Ashes, All Fall Down" (12-30-17 006v4) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post)
; TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.

Sunday, January 14, 2018

RAPPROCHEMENT (photomorph) & FLOORED, or WHICH IS THE BIGGER B.S. STORY? (free verse dream poem) by Roswila


FLOORED, or, WHICH IS THE BIGGER B.S. STORY?

dream one:

a sweetheart from my teenage years
that my best girlfriend stole from me
rebounds, repeating that he likes me ...
likes me ... really likes me; and not as one
might think to reassure me that he won't
desert me again for her, but oddly enough,
I sense that it's to stress it's not love he's
talking about but a genuine liking; as we
sit on the floor and I try to get comfortable
enough to cuddle with him against the wall,
I watch the profusion of tattoos on his arms
moving like little mouths and chuckle silently
and wryly to myself as I recall that old joke
about lawyers and I think: how can you tell
when a man is lying? his mouth's moving


dream two:

rearranging my small apartment's not only
a lot of work but a challenge, move one thing
and twenty others have to be put somewhere
else to make room for it; and all the dust and
gunk that's getting stirred up! I know I've not
done a thorough cleaning in quite some time
but didn't think it'd gotten quite this bad! I
decide to sweep even though the reorganizing's
far from complete, as it'll make things more
visually pleasant, not to mention I won't be
tracking crap everywhere as I go on rearranging;
yikes! what's this! a pile of ancient, dried dog doo
behind a small plank propped against the baseboard
in the kitchen: what the hell? my roommate of many
years ago told me she'd gotten rid of all this shit,
yet here it is! big as life and twice as ugly! at least
it's aroma, shall we say, is long gone, but that's
small comfort, I think, as I sweep the large hard
turds onto a sheet of newspaper preparing
to get rid of them at last


[free verse poem on two dreams of 1-11-18. I blush to admit my rooms really do need a thorough cleaning. However, house cleaning here is a metaphor. I've got more inner garbage to organize and/or toss than I'd realized. BTW, the people in these dreams are folk I knew many years ago (actually, the woman's the same one in both dreams). And the dreams helped me recognize resonances with current relationships. Talk about a need for house cleaning! Not necessarily tossing the relationships, but how I do them, how I am within them. I'm also reminded of that old expression "What you permit, you teach." And that repeated image of a floor is intriguing, which is why I stress it in the title. Photomorph "Rapprochement" (10-3-11 11324v6a) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post)
; TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.